


The Fall of Hearts

by Ellri



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Original Work, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellri/pseuds/Ellri
Summary: Valia is woken in the dead of night, confused, by the man she dreams of marrying. He rushes her out of bed, insisting they go with her original plan - they both must leave Asgard, tonight, for Odin has denied their union. Scared, she agrees, only so they could live a life together, but something is not what is seems...*Story will have a collection of my OC's, and more Marvel based characters will be introduced as time goes on.
Relationships: Original Characters - Relationship
Kudos: 2





	1. Sold Heart Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, many thanks to MoniLikesReading for helping me edit this out. <3
> 
> Secondly, this is going to be mostly an original story, though set in the Marvel/Norse Mythology world. Many characters will pop up, and I will write them in and may include some chapters for them, exclusively. For the most part, though, this will be mainly focused around my own characters. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please leave any feedback. <3 
> 
> Edit 30/04/2020: I felt like the chapters were a bit out of place with each other, so I've re-worked and organised them. If I do have any readers, and you're confused - so sorry! I think it flows better this way. :)

“Get up, now!”

Valia awoke, startled, looking up at a familiar face. “Aeges?” she whispered, the dead of the night very apparent in the complete darkness.

“We need to go. Come with me. If we leave now, we can get away unseen.”

Aeges quickly grabs Valia by her wrists, lifting her easily to her feet. He rummages through her wardrobe, tossing aside the intricate gowns until he finds a simple, grey cloak. He throws it over her shoulders, and proceeds to drag her behind him, out of her quarters. It all happens within an instant, she tries to process the situation. Abruptly, she stops and pulls herself away, her back pressing up against the outside of her door.

“Wait. Aeges. I do not understand. What is happening? Please…” before she can finish, Aeges pulls her in, and embraces her. He leans in for a kiss, which she welcomes, though still confused. It ends as quickly as it began.

“Odin has refused. If we do not leave now, I will be sent away come dawn. Most likely to be killed, off world.” He looks away while speaking. Valia shakes her head, reaching out to him. “No, that cannot be. How? You said you would speak to him in the morning, how did this happen…” Valia leans into his chest, confused and unsure. 

_This does not make sense_ she tells herself, attempting to calm her thoughts. “We were not supposed to leave, you said we would find another way… you wanted to stay, I-” 

He pulls her away, a sharp jerk, and looks her dead in the eyes.

“You do love me, do you not?”

Valia is exasperated. She studies his face for a moment, though in the darkness, not much can be seen. Where his eyes were usually a deep crimson with light gold flecks, she can only make out a dull red within the blackness. He pulls away and quickly looks over his shoulder, ensuring they remain alone. 

“You know I do.” She finally says, though a bit unsure of herself. _Something_ is not right, though she cannot quite make sense of everything. She feels exhausted, and out of breath. He moves further away, a hand now outstretched to her.

“If we leave now, we can avoid Heimdall. Quickly. You trust me, yes? We need to go. _Now._ ” His hand, still outstretched, is visibly still. _He’s not afraid?_ Valia questions, though she quickly gives her hand, and he roughly takes it and begins moving, again pulling her behind him. She does her best to keep up with his quickened pace, while running the few minutes in her mind again and again, trying to clearly comprehend the situation.

_Something feels so wrong…_

Suddenly, Aeges pulls her into an alcove by the doors to the streets outside. He rummages through his breast pocket, and pulls out two necklaces with dark blue stones.

“These are concealment stones.” Aeges begins, quickly wrapping the necklace around Valia’s wrist. “Just hold onto it like this for now. Do not let it go, no matter what. As long as the stone touches your skin, you will be hidden from Heimdall’s sight.” He ties a knot in the smooth leather fabric, securing the stone tightly, and painfully, in place.

“It hurts…” Valia says, quietly, attempting to pull the leather away from her skin ever so slightly. Aeges watches her, while securing his own stone. She looks up at him, expectantly, hoping he would help her. He sighs, looking out towards the door. “We could still be seen by other guards around. Keep up with me and stay close, or else we’ll be found and I’ll be killed for this. Do you understand? Stay close to me or my death will be on you. You do not want that, do you?”

His eyes fall on her. She looks up at him, breathless. His eyes were _different_ , she thought. Something wilder about them, more unsure… less kind. She lightly shakes her head, wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “No. Of course not. I understand, Aeges. I am sorry.”

He ties the last knot around his wrist with a sharp pull, and turns away, slowly stepping out of the alcove.

“Good.” His voice is quiet, though stern. Valia’s heart sinks. She realises how stressed he must be. He does not want to live without her. She knows she feels the same, but… is this right? Is this the right decision? Of course she is the one who brought it up earlier that evening. But… what about Loki, and Frigga? Will she ever see them again? And Thor and Odin? They are her family, all she has in this world, besides Aeges. Tears build in her eyes. She looks to him, wanting him to say something, wanting to hear him assure her all will be fine. It felt as though the world was moving, slowly, even though all had happened so fast. Too fast. Valia reached out a hand, placing it on Aeges’ forearm, hoping for some comfort. He pulls away.

“Aeges –” She starts, however is interrupted by the startle of his grasp around her upper left arm.

“Keep up. Let’s go.” He tightens his grip, and they begin to make their way to the gates, to the rainbow bridge that leads to the Heimdall’s Observatory; their only way out. Valia struggles to keep up, and only notices once Aeges’ grip lessens that her arm was in pain. Before she is able to say anything, they stop and he quickly turns to bring up the hood of her cloak. “Stay quiet.” He orders, bringing up his own hood and walks over to a pair of guards, standing idly by with horses. She watches them for a moment, and lowers her gaze when one of the men look towards her. Valia hears steps approaching, and looks up to see Aeges returning, with a horse and another guard on his own steed.  
  
“Aeges?” She quickly looks between the two of them, hesitantly. She takes a step back, though Aeges is too quick and he pulls her closer. “This is Brynjar.” He points to the guard, who nods. His eyes are wide, and Valia can see his dark hair under his helmet, unwashed, and sweat glistens his face. He looks down at her, in such a way that resembles a vulture eyeing its prey. He sends shivers down her spine. She grips onto Aeges’ cloak, looking up at him. He smiles. “We’ll be taking this horse, and Brynjar will be accompanying us to the Observatory.” His face lowers, to meet hers. “This will not be a _problem_ , will it? You do _trust_ me, yes?”  
  
Valia stares into his eyes. He keeps her gaze, for the first time. The shiver down her spine intensifies. “Aeges?” The red in his eyes seem more intense, not what she thought she remembered. Where flecks of gold could usually be seen within the colour, only red remained. She felt breathless. She felt vulnerable. Suddenly, in one swift movement, he hoists her up atop their horse, and joins her. Startled, she clutches onto him, and they begin their journey down the rainbow road. Many thoughts race through her mind, as they make their way down the bridge. _No,_ she shakes her head, attempting to expel the negative thoughts. _He is just stressed, as am I… I am not thinking straight… it will be alright, I will be with him. We will be together._  
  
The air is thick, and heavy. The humidity is suffocating, she realises. She closes her eyes, leaning into Aeges, wanting nothing more than to return to her chambers, and comfort. Her head begins to ache. She buries her head further into Aeges’ chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. She feels his heart beating, a quick and panicked rhythm, much like her own. 

She feels them slowing, and looks up to see Heimdall’s Observatory, now only minutes away.  
  
_Heimdall_

Valia looks up to Aeges, alarm setting in. “Aeges, how will we pass Heimdall? If he sees us, surely he will call for Odin…” Aeges scoffs. “Heimdall will not be a problem. Sit quietly, we are just about there.” His words sting, though she does as she is told and watches as their destination grows closer. The pain in her head not subsiding, she tries to breathe slowly, though her heart continues to race. She realises she’s barely had a moment to breathe, all had happened so fast. She can feel tears form in her eyes, and fights back the wave of despair that washes over her.  
  
“Alright, we have arrived. Stay here for a moment.”  
  
His voice is suddenly soft. She watches as he dismounts in one swift motion, and leads the horse over to the entrance to secure him in place before heading inside. She sits for a moment, and a sudden awkward feeling of being watched creeps up on her. Slowly, she turns, and notices Brynjar, staring. She stares back, not sure if she should say something. He smiles. She quickly looks away, uncomfortably adjusting herself in the saddle. The pain in her head worsens. Forever feels like an understatement, and she is relieved when Aeges finally returns, holding a very familiar weapon.  
  
“Hofund?” Valia questions, leaning forward to allow Aeges to help her get her feet back on the ground. “So we can activate the Bifrost. Certainly, we could not get hold of Gungnir. That might have been a bit more difficult, and believe me, this was troublesome enough.” Aeges lightly chuckles, casually placing the sword over his shoulder and resting the blade there. He gestures for her to make her way to the entrance. His demeanour is different, she notices. Calmer. Though, she does not think much on it. She does as asked, and in the moment, carefully looks over her shoulder once more as she walks away, and sees Brynjar, still staring. Still smiling. A sharp pain shoots through her head. She looks away and quickens her pace. 

“Stand over by there,” Aeges motions to the entrance of the Bifrost Portal. “This will not take long.” Valia wraps her arms around herself, and makes her way over. She looks around, as she always appreciated the beauty of the Observatory, with its many intricate details. Though the humidity can still be felt inside, she notices the floor is cool. In all the rush, she had been barefoot the entire time, as there was no time to think, let alone find some shoes, in all the chaos of this evening. 

“Brynjar,” Valia whips around, seeing Brynjar standing atop the pedestal where she so often sees Heimdall stand, keeping watch. This strange man looks _odd_ , in this place. Where a great Guardian once stood, now this disgusting being takes his place. She watches, as Aeges approaches Brynjar with the great Bifrost Sword. “Take this, and place it within the pedestal. Once we are in position, activate the Bifrost. Understand?” Brynjar nods, greedily taking the sword. He awkwardly grasps it, admiring its beauty. The sweat from his brow drips down his face as he brushes unwashed hair from his face. Valia looks to Aeges, who is watching with a disgusted look on his face. “Alright, that’s enough of that. Place the sword in the pedestal and get ready.” 

Aeges steps back and away from Brynjar, whose wide eyes remain fixated on Hofund. Valia shudders. His appearance and demeanour are appalling, and yet Aeges knows him. _How?_ She tries to think back to a time where she might have seen him. Surely she would recognise him, however no memories spring to mind. She knew a large majority of Odin’s army, including the usual roaming guards. If not by name, then by appearance. _This one_ , however, seems completely unknown to her. Valia places a hand on her aching head, now feeling as though it is splitting from the pain. She notices a light glow from her palm, and glances at it, carefully. The binds Odin had placed on her years prior were illuminated. She stares at the symbol, for a moment, confused. Slowly, she brings up her other hand, and sees the matching symbol and glow. _What does this mean?_

“Valia?” 

She quickly lowers her hands, hiding them under the fabric of her robes. She turns to him. “Yes?” Her eyes meet his. He towers over her, his large stature truly coming through and she realises how small she really is. Where she once felt comfort from his presence, a feeling of dread instead takes that place. Aeges examines her for a moment, before moving closer. “Nothing. Come, it is time to go.” He takes hold of her once again, his grip tight around her arm. “Wait, Aeges…” He looks down at her, and she is looking around. “What about some belongings? I have nothing…” Valia realises, quite embarrassingly, she is still in her nightgown. He shrugs, and holds her close. “I have arranged for a few things to be waiting for us. More can be obtained, later.” She leans into him, once more, nodding as she does so. “Alright.” She closes her eyes, the pain becoming too much, as it washes over her and blurs her vision. 

“Brynjar, open the Bifrost, _now._ ” 

Valia holds her breath as a whirl of light engulfs them, pulling their bodies into the Bifrost. The descent is nauseating. She opens her eyes after a few moments, to see stars and other celestial bodies at a great distance from them. Valia closes her eyes once more, pressing her head against Aeges’ chest, and holds onto him. His grasp tightens. “Brace yourself, we are just arriving now.” Almost as suddenly as he spoke, she felt the ground beneath her feet. The Bifrost subsides, and they are left in darkness.


	2. Pale Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a monster. Hope you enjoy. <3

Some hundreds of thousands of years ago… 

  
Cells illuminate dimly within the great halls of Asgard’s dungeons, where soft shuffling and quiet movements of its prisoners lightly echo down the corridors. A sudden opening of the doors perk a few of the inmates, craning their necks to see who visits them in these late hours of the evening. A tall figure approaches, adorned in silks and golden armour, his light greying hair catching the orange glow of each chamber as he passes them. Accompanied by two Royal Guards, the King of Asgard makes his way down each passage, moving with determination, until he comes to one cell, in particular. 

Inside, a dark figure sits against the clean white stone walls. His head leaning back, his eyes closed, with an arm resting on a raised knee and the other sits comfortably in his lap. He makes no indication that, before him, stands Odin Allfather. “Daruzia.” Odin’s voice booms through the halls. Quick scurries of other prisoners are heard, heading back to their cots, where they await their coming doom. 

“Well.” Daruzia inhales deeply, opening his eyes to see the great warrior in front of him. “I had wondered how long I would sit here,” He rises to his feet with ease, crossing his arms once standing. “Before I would be greeted by the _King_ himself.” Daruzia scoffs. “What do I owe such an honour?” Odin remains poised, choosing his next words wisely. “How long will you rot in here, Daruzia?” He takes a step forward, only inches away from the forcefield. Daruzia does not move, and only offers a smile. “Until you decide to kill me.” Odin nods in agreement. “Yes,” he begins, now crossing his own arms. “I believe you are right. However… such a waste, do you not agree?” Daruzia sniggers, taking a few steps forward. “Oh, you would like my opinion on this, then? How interesting.” He reaches the barrier, both men only within arms reach if not for the barrier that divides them. Odin offers a smile. “You were left to die. You fought in a battle for a warlord that would rather sacrifice his own people in an attempt to get away, than die alongside them in defeat.” Daruzia carefully looks into Odin’s blue eyes, studying them. Odin continues. “You are the son of Surtur, are you not? And yet here you are, and here you have been, all these long years.” Daruzia sneers at his father's name. “What of it? Another bastard son left to die. Such a sad turn of events, I know.” Odin sighs, shaking his head lightly as he does so. “No son of mine nor a member of my own family would ever be left as a prisoner, so long as I could help it.” Daruzia laughs in his face, taking a step back. “Are you here to adopt me, _Allfather_? I am flattered, truely, but I’d rather take an axe to the neck. Are we done?” 

He glares at Odin, expectantly, waiting for the backlash. It never comes to pass. “Daruzia.” Odin says, softly yet with determination. “What do you want of me, Odin?” Daruzia questions, losing his patience now. “Your father imprisoned me. He has been dead for quite some time, now, and here you stand. Should I be grateful for my life, in this cage?” Odin raises a hand to his beard, and gently begins to comb through it with his fingers. “You could have been better.” He says, finally, after some time. Daruzia merely watches him, curiously. Daruzia had only met Odin a small number of times, in the past, before the battle on Svartalfheim. His father, King Bor, had visited Muspelheim with his sons, in an attempt to keep the peace amongst the 9 Realms, and Surtur. 

Odin was a boy then, his brothers even younger. Daruzia stood by his own father's side, not as his son but as nothing more than a soldier. The young Odin proudly stood by Bor, eager to learn, his head held high. His demeanor caught Daruzia’s eye, then, as he thought the boy stupid. Arrogant. He looks at this man before him, now, and feels the same as he did back then. Their other meetings throughout history were less civil, though Daruzia remarked on his fighting skills, to be able to keep up with a Fire Demon of Muspelheim. He grins at the thought. 

“Do you know why you have been kept here, all these years?” Odin breaks the silence, his arms come together once again, crossing them over his chest. “Pity?” Daruzia retorts, placing his hands on his hips as he does so. “Your mother.” Odin says, quietly. Daruzia’s heart makes an uncomfortable _thud_ in his chest. He narrows his eyes, disgustingly, as he looks the Allfather over. “Do not…” He begins, slowly. “... bring _her_ into this.” Odin sighs, turning his back on him. “She was quite the beauty, was she not? Stolen away by Surtur. A Dark Elf and Vanir mix. Quite the interesting ancestry, you have.” Daruzia’s breathing quickens, his patience wearing very thin. “Not the most _motherly_ of beings, though, if I am right? What a shame. Did she not run away, in the end? That is how you ended up mixed in with the Dark Elves, no?” 

“Quiet.” Daruzia is shaking. The memory of his mother, long dead, hits a bit harder than he realised it could. It was true, he helped her escape from Surtur, who only used her for his own needs. His birth was an oversight; she helped remind him of this, daily. Still, she was all he had, the only being to acknowledge him for more than just an instrument of war. The memory of Bor, looking her over, and she returning a gaze had brought up many questions for him at the time. Now he knows the meaning of it all, though he always had his suspicions, even back then. 

“All you know is pain.” Odin turns to him, again, his bright blue eyes intense. “You were born a soldier, nothing more. You grew up, beaten and broken until you succumbed. You were nothing but a dog, to guard your masters.” Daruzia’s fist moves before he has time to think. It meets the barrier, propelling him back. He trips over his own feet and falls, his head hitting the floor. He feels weak. Frustrated. The magical binds Bor had placed on him years before sting his flesh where they were seared in. “You could be better.” Odin continues, not affected by Daruzia’s outburst. “You could _belong_ , instead of simply _serving,_ like a leashed animal.” He watches Daruzia on the ground, for a moment, before continuing. “Respect is earned, not given, nor demanded. Earn mine, Daruzia, and I may release you from your bonds.” 

Daruzia chuckles quietly to himself. “So.” He sits up, supporting himself on his elbows, straining his neck to look up at Odin. “You want me to change ownership, then? One master for another? Will you take me out for walks, or give me a treat for being a _good boy_?” He smiles, amused with himself. Odin only glares back. “You are mocking freedom, Fire Demon.” Daruzia sits upright now, rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the ground. “ _Freedom._ ” The word leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “Not at first.” Odin interrupts. “No… at first, you earn my respect. And then my trust. Do as I ask.” Daruzia contemplated for a moment, looking around him. His cell is bleak, a small cot the only place to rest and no privacy for much else. He looks up, studying Odin for a moment. He knows what this means. He knows he’ll be nothing but a pet, as seems to be his only use in his miserable life. 

“I get out of here?” He asks, finally. Odin nods. Daruzia sighs, accepting his new fate. “Shit.” Odin smiles, a glimmer in his eyes. He watches as Daruzia comes to his feet, running his hands through his dark hair as he does so. His crimson eyes stare down at him. “I want a bed large enough for me.” Daruzia declares, crossing his arms once again. Odin looks him over, nodding. “Might be difficult.” He remarks, a bit of humour in his voice. He raises his hand, giving the signal to lower the barriers. The guards hesitate. Daruzia smiles, enjoying the moment. Their fear is well placed, though not much he could do in his current state. _Best not to let them know..._ He thinks to himself, for a moment. He takes a step back, holding his arms out, palms facing forward. “I won’t bite. Promise.” His grin widens. The guards share one last look to each other before acknowledging the order, and lower the only form of protection they believe they have. 

A wave of old, stale air wafts into the cell once the shield is down. Daruzia breathes it in. _Not quite freedom…_ He thinks to himself, wrinkling his nose at the stench of unwashed bodies. _But close enough…_ He lowers his arms to his sides, waiting for his orders from Odin before moving. He knows the Allfather is watching him, carefully, ready to attack if necessary. _Coming to see me with armour on…_ Daruzia grins. “Well, your _Majesty_ , what shall I do now?” Odin thinks, for a moment. His guards standing idly by, nervously waiting. “Einarr, Markus - escort Daruzia to the western wing of the palace.” The guards quickly glance at each other. Daruzia looks between them, and then back at Odin, confused. “Where will I…” He begins, though Odin raises a hand to silence him. “I will send Hugin and Munin ahead. You will meet with Frigga - she will lead you to your quarters.” Daruzia’s eyes narrow. “ _My_ quarters…?” He questions, suspiciously. Odin offers a shameless smile, turning away and leaves the three standing, confused. _You dirty old man._ Daruzia scoffs, amused at these turn of events. He looks to his chaperones, gesturing for them to start walking. An audible groan escapes them, as they turn and begin to make their way out of the dungeons. Daruzia walks quietly behind them, watching their movements carefully. Their bodies stiff and alert, sweat beading at the back of their necks. 

They lead the way up great staircases, with intricately detailed statues and carvings in great stone walls and pillars. This is the first time Daruzia has had a moment to see the beauty Asgard has to offer. He has only known of fire and darkness, lands with nothing but death before him. The higher they climb, the clearer the air smells, until they are above it all and a light breeze sweeps through his hair. He stops walking, lifting his hand to feel it against his skin. Daruzia breathes in, deeply, filling his lungs. He sighs, expelling the disgusting scents he was so used to. The guards turn to him. Einarr clears his throat, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. Markus follows his lead, both carefully awaiting Daruzia’s next move. He simply smiles and gestures for them to proceed. “Just needed a moment.” He says, once again motioning for them to continue on. He understands their hesitation. At nearly seven feet tall in this lesser form alone, he towers over them. The binding magic Bor had placed on him years ago depleted his energy, changing his appearance drastically. Where he once stood at nearly eighteen feet tall, now he feels small. Weak. 

Daruzia shakes his head at the thought. _No. Not weak… altered._ He will have to adapt, until the right time when he can find his way out of Asgard for good. _I’ll play nice…_ He thinks to himself, smirking. _Gain Odin’s trust, and once I have it…_ His lips curl into a menacing grin. The thought of breaking free and ridding himself of his shackles cause him to lightly laugh, visibly causing Einarr and Markus great discomfort as they peer over their shoulders. Daruzia sees them, giving a sly wink before they avert their eyes. They continue along, climbing stairs and winding through corridors until they reach an open hall, with an unfamiliar woman standing by a large door. Hugin and Munin rest by her, and Daruzia can only deduce that this is Frigga, Odin’s wife and Queen. 

The guards stop to bow, leaving Daruzia standing awkwardly behind them. Frigga looks up at him, expectantly, and he offers a slight bow of his own. She gives a warm smile, and waves away his escorts, to which they happily oblige and scurry off. Daruzia watches after them, before a light clear of a throat catches his attention. He turns his focus back to Frigga, who stands idly by. _This is… interesting._ Daruzia takes a step forward, careful not to seem threatening. “You must be Fri-uh, I mean. Queen Frigga, yes?” He is not accustomed to such formalities, and his discomfort clearly shows. Frigga nods, slightly, standing tall. “Yes,” She begins, looking Daruzia over. “Simply Frigga will be fine, thank you. I may call you Daruzia?” _What else would you call me?_ “Yes… that is fine.” Frigga warmly smiles, and gestures to the door. “If you follow me, I will see you to your quarters and get you settled in.” Daruzia watches this tiny woman walk away. _Why in Valhalla would Odin send her to greet me…_ His suspicions are highly raised, as he is becoming more confused by his situation at every passing moment. _How did I go from prisoner to guest? Do they really believe I’ll just… succumb to this?_ Frigga turns, now standing in the doorway, looking back at Daruzia. He sees her waiting and promptly moves forward, carefully holding the large wooden door open wide and waiting for her to clear it before stepping through and following her. 

These halls were different. Where the previous once were great and vast, here the corridors led to more passages, where Daruzia assumes other living quarters must dwell. They are not walking for too long, when Frigga stops at an ornate looking door, with carvings of Yggdrasil beautifully detailing the wood. “Here we are, Daruzia.” Frigga smiles warmly, and walks through, holding the door open for him. He steps through, and is taken aback by the beauty of the room before him. Directly ahead, stars could be seen through the open balcony. A fire gently crackles to his left, and a bed directly in front, to his right. “I know cold does not affect you much, however I did not want to bring you to a cold, dark room.” He looks down at Frigga, who still is smiling warmly. He has no words to offer, only a baffled look. “I thought perhaps you had enough of cold, and darkness?” He looks deeply into her eyes, her dark blue eyes. These were not the same blue as Odin. Where his are light and intense, Frigga carried an elegance and warmth in hers. He thought for a moment, choosing his words, carefully. “Yes,” He begins, minding his tone. “Thank you. No, the cold does not affect me in the slightest… I can feel it, but… no… more of a whisp… it is difficult to explain…” Frigga smirks, admiring his attempt at light conversation. He bites his lip, annoyed with himself, turning away and walking towards the fire. 

Daruzia places his hands on the mantle and stares into the flames, allowing himself to get lost in thought. Frigga quietly walks up to him, concern on her face. “Daruzia?” She says his name, warmly. A warmth he has never understood. “Why am I here?” He asks, finally. The question he’s long been wanting an answer for. Frigga clasps her hands together, taking a seat in one of the armchairs _furthest away_ , he notices. He does not turn to face her, only wanting to look into the fire, a small reminder of his home. “You have never given reason to believe you would harm us.” His ears perk up. “You were quite the brute, no doubt…” He suppresses a laugh, though he knows Frigga heard him. She continues. “Though, a loyal brute. You were never one to harm innocents…” She pauses, watching over him for a moment, and carries on. “Women. Children. You never involved yourself in a battle where they could be harmed. No… that is not you…” 

Silence falls, only the sound of each other's light breathing and the cracking of the fire can be heard. Daruzia sighs, lowering a hand into the flames and feeling the heat as they envelop his hand. _She’s right…_ He knows she is right. He has only ever fought for others. His father, and then his mother… who left him to die alone in the dark. He wanted to be by her, and yet, after all he sacrificed, here he was - in Asgard. Alive, yes… but why? He turns to face Frigga, who looks up at him with concern only a mother could show. “Why am I really here?” 

Frigga contemplates her answer, her hands resting in her lap, not too far from the dagger Daruzia notices resting on the left side of her hip. “You are here because we want to offer you a chance…” She speaks with authority, now, though her voice is still kind to him. “You do not have the power you once possessed. You know this. You cannot return to Muspelheim, even if you killed my husband and freed yourself. You betrayed Surtur…” She pauses. She knows she needs to choose her words, carefully. Not for fear of her own life, but to keep the peace. Daruzia intensely gazes at her, waiting for more, though he isn’t sure what more he wants to hear. Frigga stands, smoothing her dress as she walks over to him. He keeps still. _Very_ still. She is at arms reach away. He feels an impulse to back away, but can’t - he looks into her eyes, those motherly eyes and can see the beginnings of tears. _Oh no… don’t… do not cry, for the love of…_

Frigga places a hand over his heart, which he now realises is beating tremendously fast. “You tried, so hard…” She spoke at a whisper now. Daruzia’s face feels hot, a tightening in his throat becoming more and more apparent. “... your mother is gone, now. You gave up all you had.” He looks away from her, though he does not move. He does not want to move. It is true, his betrayal was ultimately to prove to his mother that he was not the demon she saw him to be. He knows this, so why is it hitting him in such a way? Years spent in a dungeon to contemplate his choices, the mistakes he’s made, his life as it is now. _Why are they doing this to me…_ He sighs, his breath quivering as he feels the tears stream down his cheeks. “You saved three young boys, a long time ago…” Frigga’s voice is soothing, she reaches a hand up to gently wipe away the tears. “That is why you are here. You are _good_.” Daruzia closes his eyes, shaking his head softly. “No…” He whispers, trying to hold back further tears. 

“Look at me, Daruzia…” Frigga delicately moves her hand to his cheek, pushing his head so that she may look up into his eyes. He does not fight her, and looks down through watery eyes. She smiles up at him, her golden hair catching the light from the fire behind them. He had not paid much attention to her appearance, until now. He looks over her features, so delicate and yet quite powerful. “Will you accept this chance, Daruzia?” She asks, keeping her eyes locked with his own. _Something_ wants him to say yes, but he knows he could never really be one of them. He is trapped, there are no other choices for him besides this or death, but he could never be _him_. He will always be nothing more than a _demon_ , chained and caged. He pulls away, stepping back and takes to his knees. 

“I am uncertain… I cannot be Daruzia. Not here…” He lowers his head, closing his eyes once again as he does so. The thoughts of the evening rush through his mind. Not even an hour before, he was nothing more than a prisoner, rotting away. And now? What is he meant to be? Could he really make a life for himself, _here?_ A different life… something better? 

He takes a deep, long breath and exhales with great force. He looks back up at Frigga, adjusting himself to one knee, his arms resting on his raised thigh. He watches her, as she looks down at him, bringing a hand up to her chin as she does so. Some thoughts pass through her mind, as she gazes upon him. Stories of Daruzia live on among the people of Asgard. His is a story of defeat - how King Bor captured a Fire Demon and imprisoned him; a show monkey to perform for guided tours. It would take a lifetime for this being in front of her to relinquish his past, and the reputation that comes along with it… though, very few would know him, in this state; his eyes give him away, the only real features to remain of his true appearance. 

“Perhaps…” Frigga begins, contemplating her next words carefully. “Perhaps you are right, Daruzia. Your name… it carries much with it. Good. Bad…” His eyes lower to the floor, a sigh escapes his lips. Frigga kneels down, placing a hand on his shoulder. He meets her gaze, peering back into her deep blue eyes. “A name can be _changed,_ my dear boy.” Daruzia lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head. “ _Boy?_ I am fairly certain I am _much_ older than you are, dear Queen.” Frigga laughs sweetly, nodding in agreement. “Yes… time is quite strange for us, isn’t it? We live and die with age, and yet you remain ageless, in a sense...” She trails off, her eyes staring blankly at him. He tilts his head, concerned. “Frigga?” Her gaze falls back to him, a great smile forming on her lips. “I have it.” She stands, quite suddenly, clapping her hands together. Daruzia remains on the floor, baffled. “I… what?” She warmly looks down at him, offering her hand as she does so. “Come now, up off the floor.” Daruzia takes her small hand in his own, carefully, and brings himself to his feet. She takes both his hands in hers, and exhales lightly. 

“Aeges.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Next chapter might be a bit difficult to read through, with depictions of violence, assuault/non-con. 
> 
> Here is the song that I feel goes well with this chapter: 
> 
> Katatonia - Pale Flag https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nScAMToaBEE 
> 
> Not exactly a white flag of surrender, but maybe a pale flag instead...


	3. Sold Heart Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning, last chance. <3

Valia opens her eyes, and it takes a moment for them to adjust. The moonlight is bright, illuminating the land before them. The ground is covered in snow, sparkling under the light. She breathes in deeply, exhales, and watches as her breath disappears into the cold crisp air. She looks up into the sky, stepping forward as she does so. “Where are we?” She turns to Aeges, who has not moved since arriving. “Midgard.” He says, simply. His eyes are on her, watching. “Earth?” She questions, wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “Where are we to go, from here? I see nothing but hills and mountains.” Aeges shrugs, still not moving from his position. Annoyance sets in. “Aeges, _please_ can we go? It is so cold, I am barefoot…” Aeges nods, exhales and watches the steam dissipate. “It is quite cold, isn’t it?” Valia analyses him from where she stood. She can clearly see him, under the light of the moon. His dark brown hair catching the light falling snow, and his skin turning pink from the cold. _He…_

“Who are you?” 

She moves away, her heart beating hard in her chest. “What do you mean?” He smiles. She has a moment to really see him, now. He is tall, but… something was _wrong_ with his height. His face had the right features, but they were _off_. His darker complexion looks waxy under the light, his eyes more a dull red than she recalled, earlier. It was as if the being in front of her was merely a cheap imitation. “Aeges does not feel the cold, nor does it affect him. Who are you? Why have you done this? Where is Aeges?” Her breathing quickens. “I thought it was just the stress of it all. The fear you must have been feeling, this whole time… but no, this is not you. You are not him. _Who are you_?” The pain in her head intensifies. She staggers back, resting against a large boulder. Her gaze never wavering, she watches as he rests his hands on his hips, a grin forming across his face. 

“Little lamb.” He says it, in a sickening sing-song way. “You stupid little girl. You trusted _me_ , of all beings in this dreadful, wretched world. You should have known better.” He takes a step forward, and then another and another. He stops. Only a few feet of air now separate them. The snow lightly falls. “You are not him.” Valia says, tears streaming down her face. He smiles. “Of course I am. Look at me. Did you really think I cared for you? No. No…” Another step. “I just needed to hear you say it. Hear you say you’ll leave with me. The rest was so easy. Now who will hear you scream?” 

A sharp jolt shoots through her body. There is no time to think. Before she realises it, she is running. Running from _him._

_No… not him… it isn’t him…_

The last thought chokes her. She can’t breathe. She runs. A sudden shock; a quick pull sends her reeling backwards. He has her by the hair, a fist full at the back of her head. She cries out, as her body slams against his. “No!” He is silent, only his heavy breathing can be heard in the struggle. His hand moves over her mouth, and without a second thought, she bites. Hot blood rests on her lips, as his grip on her loosens. “Argh! You little -” She drops to the ground, the snow slowing her movements but she is smaller, and quicker, than he is. A swift kick to the groin has him double back, clutching himself in agony. 

“Heimdall!” Valia screams, struggling to get to her feet. Her nightgown is soaked, limiting her movements. Her cloak all but abandoned, having thrown it off in her attempt to run. She scratches at the concealment stone, still tied to her wrist. She knows Heimdall is the only one who can hear her, the only one who could help her. Her nails cut at her skin, as she slips her frozen fingers around the thin leather fabric that is keeping the little blue stone in place. A pull at her ankle drags her back. “Let go!” She screams, turning, and seeing _his_ face. Her heart is nearly ripped from her chest. _This is not him…_ He smiles, his face red from the cold. 

Valia sends a foot to meet his grin. “You’re not him! Stop! Let. Me. GO.” Aeges falls back, his hands covering his face, blood pouring from his now broken nose. Valia can barely move, the cold and weight of her clothes exhausting her. She fumbles at the stone as she tries to get to her feet. She knows she cannot outrun him. She knows her only hope is to be free of the stone and call for Heimdall. She looks back at _him_ , and a moment of guilt passes through her, seeing him lying in the snow, in agony. Her Aeges. He sharply looks up at her, and sees her struggle to remove the tightly bound little blue rock of despair. He lunges for her, an animalistic growl escapes his lips. Before she has a chance to run, she feels the first hit, across her left cheek. And then the second. And the third. Her eyes open, nothing but white snow in front of her. When did she end up back on the ground? 

“If I had known,” Aeges began, panting heavily, moving over her. “That you would be _this_ much trouble,” He pulls a small, dagger from his boot. “I would have done _this_ from the start!” He pulls her closer, plunging the blade into her back, below her right shoulder. The force of it pushes her down, face first, into the snow. She screams in anguish, digging her nails into the ground. “Sif was training you well,” She hears him, his voice hoarse from the cold and blood. He drags her back, using the dagger as an anchor. “You could have made a decent fighter, maybe. What a shame.” Valia cannot breathe, all she can do is cry out. She feels the blade slip, slowly, out from her. “I enjoy your screaming…” He glides the blade down the side of her neck, creating a design, using the dagger much like a pen with her blood as its ink. She feels his other hand, wet and cold, slide its way up her leg, from under her nightgown.

The fear and cold take over. The combination is paralyzing. She knows she needs to move. She _has_ to move. She feels him against her, his hand moving her gown up. “Stop. _Please stop.”_ She pleads, knowing there is nothing that can be done. “Is this how you wanted it, my little lamb?” His hand moves, much like a snake. It slithers its way up between her legs. “You are not him.” She manages to say it, gripping the ground, feeling him slowly massage her. He leans in, close to her ear. “My dear… you keep telling yourself that. Convince yourself, if it makes you feel better.” He whispers, breathing heavily. “But more importantly…” His dagger cuts into her skin, following the pattern he drew out, slowly and lightly slicing through her. She screams. His free hand is now holding her down, at the back of her neck. The more she thrashes, the deeper the cuts go. “… keep screaming...” She feels another pain, a sudden jolt within her. He keeps the dagger to her skin, and with a forceful push, she feels him inside of her. She does not want to scream. She wants to keep that from him... but the pain wins, each and every time his blade cuts through her, or the rhythm of his thrusts intensifies. His hand moves from her neck, to the back of her head. He grabs hold of her hair, compelling her to move backwards as he pulls. The dagger now against the front of her throat, he turns her head so that she can meet his gaze. Valia tightly shuts her eyes, as her hands clasp around his right forearm, both in an attempt to keep the blade away but also to help take the strain from having her head drawn back. “Enjoying yourself?” He manages to say, panting. Valia can say nothing. Her eyes close once more.

_You’re not him… you’re not him… you’re not him…_

With one last, final thrust, he lets her go. She falls into now blood soaked snow, numb. She can feel herself shaking, shivering, though she is unsure if it’s from the pain or the cold. She hears his footsteps by her head, and keeps her eyes closed. “Look at me…” His hand finds a familiar spot, and takes hold of her hair yet again, forcing her up and to her side. She looks into his eyes, the crimson eyes she thought she knew. _No. Just red…_ she stares at him. Aeges smiles, the smile she once loved. _Still_ loves. _No… this is not his smile._ He sighs, kneeling next to her. “If only I could have kept you.” He looks up into the sky, the snowfall now starting to pick up. “But, alas… it is time for me to go.” His head falls back down, to look at her once more. He lets her go. She glares at him, angry, afraid, and broken. “Imposter.” She hisses, between shivers. His grin once again forms on his lips.

“Do that.” He begins. “Convince yourself that this is not who I am. Doubt it. And then try again, always, for as long as you live. Because…” He leans in, so close she feels his hot, disgusting breath on her face. “… you will never know the truth. If I am not Aeges, then who am I? Who could I _be_? Loki, maybe? Or Thor? We had fun like this, I wonder how you would feel if Heimdall had his way…” He chuckles. “Imagine that? Never knowing _who_ someone is?” Looking down at his wrist, he begins to untie the concealment stone from himself. “If you go back, and say I did this, well…” He undoes the first knot. “I’ll surely be killed, and you can live a somewhat happy life, with only the memory of me, and hope you’ve done the right thing. Or…” The second knot loosens. “You can come back, tell no one, try to live with yourself as you spend your days with me – I mean, Aeges…” The necklace falls into the snow. “… and hope that the company you keep are who you believe they are.” He takes a step back, wiping the blade on his sleeve as he does so. “Who knows, if you do come back, we can have some more fun.”

He tosses the blade to her, and turns his back. It only takes him a few steps before he is where he needs to be. “Brynjar!” He shouts, picking up his cloak as he does so. “Open the Bifrost!” Valia watches him from the ground, unable to move. He turns to her, one last time, and smiles. “Good bye, little lamb.” An array of lights fall upon him, and in an instant, he is gone. Valia is left alone, in the cold, bleeding and frozen to her bones.

 _“Valia…”_ She hears a faint voice. Where is it coming from? She opens her eyes, and can only see the white snow in front of her. “Help…” Tears sting as they freeze against her cheeks. “ _Valia…”_ The voice comes from the wind, soft and gentle. It is familiar to her, though she can’t quite figure it out. “Who… is… it…” She can barely speak, her body severely shaking and numb. “ _I can take it away…”_ She feels warm breath against her ear, the voice much closer now. Valia lifts her left hand, trying to reach out, to feel whomever is there. A light catches her eye. Her hand falls to the snow once more, and slowly, she brings it to her face. Odin’s binds were dimly lit now, flickering in the darkness. She watches for a moment, caught in the sparkling pulse of the light, until the voice catches her attention once more. “ _You can give in to me… and I will take away this pain, sweet girl…”_ Valia looks out, to nothing, though the voice is in front of her. “H-how?” She stammers, speech becoming near impossible. A shadow flickers in the wind, something darker than the night itself, uncompromised by the moon’s own light. Valia watches as it grasps her hand, covering the light emulating from it. “ _I am your darkness…”_ The shadow creeps up her arm, numbing it as it does so, though not the same feeling as the cold.

“ _Give in, and the cold will go away… the pain will subside… you will never feel either again…”_ She can sense the same happening at her feet, and up her ankles and legs. “N-never… a-again…?” Her breathing is slowing, her voice breaking. “ _No pain… cold… or the warmth of another…_ ” Fresh tears streamed down her face. _Is this what I want?_ “I-I… w-want… t-to f-feel… w-warm…” A flash of a memory passes by, a recollection of a happier time in _his_ arms. “A-Aeges…” The shadow slowly creeps up her neck, her body nearly covered in it. “ _No…”_ The voice is gentler, if at all possible. “ _What you want will never come to pass… die here, or give in to me… this is your last chance…”_ Valia feels nothing, not the cold nor the pain. She lifts her hands to see them smothered in darkness, and no longer shaking. _I… feel nothing…_ The symbols glow a faint red, no longer pulsing, but a dull light emanating from her palms. “O-okay…” She begins, placing her hands back down, resting them together. “I… I g-give in… t-take it away…”


End file.
